


dream world

by anon_drabble



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Damsel in Distress, Dream World, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon_drabble/pseuds/anon_drabble
Summary: more dialogue prompts. this time: 10. “Come over here and make me.”this was one of those that wrote itself. some may not agree but i personally had fun writing it. (also though it’s not mentioned really at all, this is jumin, i promise!)





	dream world

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my tumblr: https://anon-drabble.tumblr.com  
> if you're able, i definitely recommend you visit the tumblr where i do reblog prompts like these and also post additional content like much shorter fluff pieces and headcanons.

“Come over here and make me.” The words were growled, his expression dark. She had never before seen him like that. He was terrifying and powerful. “Come to me.”

“Yes. Yes…” she murmured, compelled to go to him. Her feet moved her forward. It was only a few steps and she was in front of him, her breathing unsteady, her cheeks flushed. They were in the shadows, where no one could see them. Where no one would save her if she screamed. He towered over her and she felt the power just radiating from him. It was impossible to tear her eyes from his face. It wasn’t completely visible in the darkness but they were so close, she could make out a few details. The stubble on the otherwise immaculate appearance. The slight parting of his lips as he bent down and captured her in a kiss. It was fiery and passionate and powerful. It was him in a kiss. She was at his mercy. And she wanted him to ravage her.

MC awoke, panting, her sheets twisted around her so she couldn’t escape. She ended up falling out of bed. Staggering to her bathroom, MC fumbled to turn on the light. The light blazed on, showing a pale reflection with reddened cheeks and distant eyes. She looked like a mess. Just what was that dream? Who was that man? It felt like a nightmare now, though it hadn’t been bad while she dreamt it. It was an amazing experience while there but now, back in the real world, it was a little scary. It had almost felt real to her.

Who had that man been? Could she ever possibly see him again?

MC led a boring life. Working in an office. The same schedule every day. The same food for lunch. The same books. The same movies. It was dull. It was predictable. Maybe that was why her subconscious had imagined such a wild and different fantasy for her. Going to work after that dream was especially difficult. It was hard to focus that morning. But eventually, the mundane won out. The autonomy of never having anything new to choose or do took over and she went on living that life. All day long. At home, she popped in her favorite musical staring the actor Zen. But she’d already seen it a hundred times so there was nothing new. She ate dinner. Went to bed. Her dream was forgotten.

It was raining this time. Pouring down, painful against her bare skin. Wait. Bare skin? MC glanced down. Her shirt was torn, revealing her stomach. Her skirt (when had she last even owned a skirt? Years ago) was unraveling at the ends, fluttering in the wind. She reached to pat it down, to adjust the skirt to cover as much of her as possible. Then she noticed her hands tied. Normally, MC wasn’t much of a screamer. She’d never been in any real danger, after all. But her mouth opened and she screamed until her throat hurt.

There were gunshots sounding and they were coming closer. She struggled against her bonds, fearing for her life. Shouts and yelling joined the gunshots. She felt the fear squeezing at her heart. Then there was silence again. Except for the pounding rain and the occasional thunder. She suddenly felt strangely alone now. What had happened? There had been fighting but now, the silence had settled in. No one had come to untie her. Had everyone died?

“You’re turning out to be a great deal of trouble.” She heard the voice behind her and her head whipped, trying to see him. For she had recognized the voice. That same commanding, low voice that spoke in such a way, she was powerless against it. It made her knees quiver.

He stepped in front of her and shielded her slightly from the rain. He seemed to be glaring but it could have been the shadows.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She didn’t even know what she’d done! But she couldn’t quite say she was sorry to see him again. Her eyes drifted to his lips and she remembered the kiss from last time.

“Next time, you won’t trouble me,” he told her and she felt herself nod. She couldn’t possibly argue. Not with him. 

“Please tell me your name. Please.” She was practically begging but she had the idea he liked that.

“Call me Jumin.” Was that a real name or a pseudonym? Did it matter?

Then his lips were against hers again. She tried to kiss him back but his movements were unpredictable. Powerful, like last time. Her hands idly strained against the ropes as she wanted to put her arms around him. Instead, he stepped even closer, his body pressing hers back. She felt his tongue invade her mouth and suddenly the ropes were cut. She threw her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him with equal fervor.

Her alarm clock blared. The dream faded almost immediately again. Her body was sweaty and she felt hot all over. The routine to the bathroom was repeated. The light came on and again she looked like a mess. But life when on.

Work. Meal. Work. Home. That night, there was no dream. But the details were still so vivid. She couldn’t forget the man, mostly. He was… Undescribable, honestly. The way he made her feel, the way her knees went weak… It was impossible to forget him.

A week later, she dreamed again. It made no sense. There was no reason behind her dreams. But they continued and the man was soon invading even her waking thoughts. What was real and what was a dream? In her dreams, she felt so alive, so raw and exposed. She couldn’t feel that way in real life. It wasn’t necessarily better to feel weak but she felt _so much more_ like that. Real life felt like a cloud was around her. Like she couldn’t feel as much and everything was muted. Sepia tones versus the overly saturated false reality.

And  the man. Whoever he was, he was always there. No matter what changed. Most dreams ended with him kissing her. But not always. It wasn’t that they were close. There was no relationship between them. They didn’t know each other. It wasn’t like they were in love. It was just that… He was always there. Every dream. And he made her feel alive.

Real life was a dull chore. Just to live wasn’t enough anymore. But there was nothing to be done. Dreams weren’t real.

Then she saw him one day. On the street. In reality. He was there. A long, dark coat ruffled it the wind. He walked past her. She stopped, turned, ran after him and grabbed his coat.

“It’s you!” she gasped, her eyes looking into his. He was a perfect stranger but she thought she knew those eyes. But this was the real world. The man she knew existed in her dreams only. There was no way this man knew her. She saw him shrugging her arm off, backing away a single step. Maybe a scathing word about her mental state. Most likely, just painful silence and judging eyes. And him turning his back and walking away from her forever.

“Took you long enough.” Was that a small smile? A confident smirk? Was he laughing at her?

“You recognize me?” Her voice was soft, but this time, she didn’t feel as weak and subdued.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”


End file.
